


the horror, the horror

by galraempireofficial (Cassbuttstiels)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Apocalypse, Blood and Gore, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Heavy Angst, Previous Matt Holt/Shiro - Freeform, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-12 15:09:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10493616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassbuttstiels/pseuds/galraempireofficial
Summary: With the creation of several lethal diseases, the world was in total upheaval. Once beautiful lives were turned into a picture of darkness as people turned away from what had once been right in order to ensure their survival.Somehow, the apocalypse threw a group of people together, forcing them to cooperate with each other when the stress was already high. Painful mistakes were revealed and unlikely bonds were formed, but could they all make it out of their dire situation?Voltron Apocalypse AU; not for the faint of heart





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is one I took from a fic that I previously had started writing. I grew out of the fandoms that I had originally used the story for, but since I still really like the idea of this story and a lot of the plot that I had planned, I decided to convert it to Voltron instead. When I wrote the original fic, I only got to about seven chapters before I grew sick of the characters that I had put in it, so these first few chapters should be out fairly quickly as most of the changes that I have to make to adapt it to Voltron are relatively minor with only a few exceptions.

 

Winter. Everything was frigid; everything was white. It was almost impossible to see through the thickness of the blizzard and yet he ran. Snow pelted his face in a series of painful pinpricks; his tears felt like they were nearly freezing to his face and his muscles ached from the physical strain as his lungs burned with every inhale of cold air that he took. He ignored the dull pain where his right arm should have been. Behind him there were the sounds of animal-like whooping accompanied by what could have only been described as inhuman howls. He kept running, never once looking back. He was afraid of what he might see in the blurry whiteness behind him.

 

He turned sharply to cut across the street upon finding a dilapidated house. He didn’t know whether anybody still lived there or not but it didn’t matter at this point. If he worried himself with such mundane things his attempts at escape would have all been futile. He nearly collapsed in the doorway as the door swung open with ease. Straightening himself, he shut it quickly and locked the door behind him. 

 

A brief look around the house told him that it was abandoned. The air wasn’t much warmer than it had been outside and furniture and other belongings lay strewn around as if somebody had gone on a rampage. Takashi Shirogane decided that the place had probably been abandoned and looted for all it was worth long ago. He didn’t have the time to dwell on what have may have happened in this former home. He continued up the stairs, searching for a place to hide. Something told him to open the first door to his left. He did.

 

On the other side there was what appeared to be a nursery; everything was miraculously intact considering the state of the rest of the house. He quickly looked around, taking in the made bed and the toys strewn about as if somebody had just been playing with them, and then he slid into the closet, amongst old blankets and stuffed animals. The howls outside suddenly stopped. He eyed a concerning red stain near a toy chest, barely breathing in the silence.  Everything that had just happened hit him at full force.

 

Shiro broke into sobs, his entire body shaking with grief. What had happened to his life? The answer was simple in his mind, and that simplicity made the truth worse. It was ending. Not just what he had worked so hard for; everything. This was truly the end of the world. He took a few deep breaths, willing himself to calm down. With shaky hands, he pulled out a picture. Scratchy handwriting on the back revealed that it was of Matt Holt, dated what should have been two years ago. He stared at it with steely eyes for a long while, and then pulled out a lighter. He watched as the picture was consumed by flame.

 

“I’m sorry.” 

 

He sat in the silence for what seemed like eons until he heard laughter outside. It was twisted and inhuman. It reeked with savagery. He slowly got up and stepped out of the closet, taking cautious steps towards the window. In the middle of the blinding snow was a dark figure: Matt. The same Matt who had once been comparable to the sun and who was never without a smile. He was still smiling now, but it looked borderline predatory. There was something dark matted in his hair and clothes and Shiro didn’t want to think about what it might be.

 

He could swear that Matt was staring right at him with that animal-like grin. Shiro took a deep breath, keeping himself as composed and blank as possible. There was a chunk missing from Matt’s shirt, that revealed an ugly scar on his neck. It looked like it was badly infected. It hadn’t been that bad just hours ago. Nothing had been like this just hours ago. 

 

Shiro found his gun in his coat and steadily lifted it. The metal was icy in his hand as he watched the other like a hawk. 

 

Matt continued to laugh, his face contorting itself into something completely horrifying.

 

Shiro took aim.

 

-

 

_ A few years ago, everything had been fine. There had been hope for the world, but it was also a time of great tension. Everything rode on the decision that the citizens of America would make. They made the wrong choice.  _

 

_ A dictator who didn’t even have to overthrow anything because he was elected into his position. It was then that the beginning of the end of the world was put into motion.This man was hateful and his campaign was fueled by the hatred he held. He overthrew everything that the once great nation had stood for, and then began declaring war. His targets were unsurprising. Russia, North Korea, and a decent portion of Middle Eastern nations. At first, the rest of the government had tried to stop him, but this man didn’t know the meaning of the word “no”.  _

 

_ In wartimes, it quickly became obvious that there would be no easy way to fight these targets. He hadn’t thought anything through properly, but did he even think? Under their dictator’s orders, American scientists began developing a new and dangerous weapon; one that would play its part in ending the world as we knew it.  _

 

_ A disease.  _

 

_ They tested it on prisoners, recording all of the symptoms and how it tended to spread, and then they sent these now sick prisoners to their enemies with big fat bows on them. As soon as the other nations realised what was going on, they began sending the infected back to America. ‘Keep your zombies,’ one official had said. Thus, the nickname for the disease became Z1, Z obviously meaning zombie, and 1 declaring that it was the first disease of the war.  _

 

_ In retaliation against America, the Russians then developed what they called AV1. They sent their infected to America, but security quickly became suspicious and they attempted to block the disease from entering the country. It was too late; a few infected had slipped past unnoticed. AV1 was a different monster than Z1. It spread slower, primarily spreading through saliva, and it was much deadlier. Instead of turning its victims into ‘zombies’, it took root in their lungs. First they would just appear to have a cold, but then their coughs would get worse, their lungs would start bleeding, and in their final stages, they’d choke and cough up blood until they suffocated. The worst part was that the disease could lie dormant for weeks before finally rearing its ugly head. _

 

_ The North Koreans heard about Russia’s AV1 and attempted to create something similar. Like Russia, they wanted to cause as much damage to America as possible. America had started this war, so they had it coming. The North Korean twist on AV1 was paranoia. The North Koreans were much more successful in getting their disease to spread than the Russians were, and within weeks their disease was infecting about half as many as Z1 and still growing.  _

 

_ England decided to take America’s side in the war- they had been allies for a long time and they weren’t willing to back down yet. In attempt to fight the Russians, English scientists developed what became known as Lupine Fever. It was yet another disease that vaguely mimicked fictional creatures. This disease was transmitted through both saliva and blood, and the symptoms were animal-like behavior, cannibalism, seizures, and brain damage. These symptoms generally showed up quickly but the disease itself would take weeks to kill those infected. This helped the disease to spread rapidly through Russia, as well as much of Northern Europe.  _

 

_ It was this final disease which had managed to ruin Shiro’s life.  _

 

_ - _

 

The two of them had been holed up somewhere along the east coast of America. They had been staying at a cottage in hopes that their remote location would allow them to wait out the end of the world in peace. They had no such luck. 

 

A ‘pack’ of infected came into town. It was in the middle of a blizzard and they weren’t so much as flinching. Lupine Fever tended have that effect on its victims. Shiro and Matt quickly packed up what little belongings they had and snuck out of the cottage in the middle of the night. The tried their best to be quiet- they really did- but the ‘pack’ caught their scent easily. The chase began.

 

Shiro and Matt ran through the snow, not looking back, praying that those shouts and those howls wouldn’t get any closer, but they did. They had almost caught up to them now. Neither of them had any choice. They turned and opened fire on the sick. There were too many of them. One leaped to the ground and tore at Matt’s’ leg with its teeth. It drew blood. In that moment, everything had seemed to stand still for Shiro. He watched Matt try to fight the thing off of him, he watched as his own bullet hit another. There were only two left. 

 

He shot them both and then turned to Matt. He was pale, staring down at his wounds. “It… bit me…” he whispered quietly, frowning. Then he dropped to the ground, unconscious. Shiro pulled Matt up from the snow and looked for a place to go. What was he supposed to do now? He wanted to scream. Instead, he walked. He didn’t know where he was going, he just knew that he had to leave before any more showed up. 

 

After what seemed like years, he stumbled upon a house with smoke coming out of its chimney. The place was small and had a few bricks that were in less than good shape, but it didn’t look like it had been looted. It couldn’t be one of the infected, because it was rare for them to stay in one place for more than a few hours, let alone light a fire. Shiro walked up to the door and knocked slowly, unsure of what to expect. An older man with with a thick mustache opened the door and his eyes widened at the sight of Matt in Shiro’s arms. All Shiro managed to say was “Help us”. 

 

The man invited the two inside without question and cleared off his couch for Shiro to lay Matt on, and then he ran off to another room mumbling something about tea. With a look around the room, Shiro concluded that the man must be very smart. There were books littering the place, and the coffee table was littered with scientific articles and magazines. When he returned, he carried two cups of tea in his hand, pushing one into Shiro’s hands without even asking whether or not he wanted any. 

 

“Lupine Fever, I presume?” His accent was thick. 

 

Shiro nodded, unsure of how else to reply.

 

“Well, I may be able to help, though I can’t make any promises,” the other man said, taking a long sip of his tea. This caught Shiro’s attention.

 

“How so?” He asked.

 

“Well, unfortunately, I was on the team of scientists who developed the disease. When it backfired on England, they sent the scientists abroad. Something about avoiding the people’s anger,” he paused, staring solemnly into his cup. Shiro’s first reaction was anger; it was this man’s fault that Matt had been bitten. Then, his mood changed to a bleak numbness. It wasn’t this man’s fault, not truly. He was probably just doing his job. He’d had no idea that the whole situation would escalate this far. 

 

He nodded quickly, not wanting to speak for fear of betraying his emotions. The man, who he later found out was called Coran, said that while they had made the disease to be incurable, there was a chance that since he had played a big part in creating it, he might be able to find a cure, or at least a way to dull the symptoms. Shiro processed this information, and then agreed to let the man do whatever he had to. 

 

When Matt woke up later, Shiro explained everything to him in hushed whispers, and the other nodded. “That’s great, Takashi! That really is! I really do hope he can find a way out of this!” He had exclaimed, grinning. While his lips might have been smiling, his eyes weren’t. It was the face of a man who knew that all hope was already lost. 

 

And so the experiments began.    
  


With Matt’s consent, Coran tested several medical treatments on him:  some subdued the pain or symptoms that Matt had begun experiencing, but nothing seemed to last very long. The day after being bitten Matt had begun showing some of the less fatal symptoms of the Fever. He became more hungry and sometimes he behaved almost animal-like, but for the most part these symptoms remained in the background. Coran said that they weren’t anything to be concerned about.

 

Then, the seizures started. This was a turning point for the three of them. Any progress that Coran had made was suddenly erased. He warned Shiro that now there may not be any help for Matt and that once the seizures started, the victim would begin to lose control of themselves. Matt would become more and more violent by the minute. Shiro lashed back at Coran, unable to keep his emotions at bay any longer. 

 

“I love him,” he shouted, slamming his fist on the table, one evening at supper. His voice suddenly dropped, “You must not understand such an emotion, but I will tell you that this entire experience is ripping me apart just as much as he,” a slim finger extended in the direction of the room that Matt was lying in. He had stopped coming to meals days ago, but he didn’t seem to be hungry. Shiro wondered if the other was eating, and if so,  _ what?  _ Then he remembered that he probably didn’t want to know the answer to that question. 

 

One night, Shiro stopped in the doorway to Matt’s room. The other stood in front of the window, very still. “How are you holding up?” His voice came out softly. The other jumped at the sound and turned around, eyeing Shiro with bloodshot eyes. 

 

“I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer, Takashi,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He walked over to Shiro and leaned in, about to give him a kiss, but then he remembered: Lupine Fever was also spread by saliva, which meant no kissing. By the time they realised they loved each other, it was too late. That night, Shiro didn’t leave Matt. Instead, he held the other in his arms, feeling the uneven pulse of his heart. 

 

The next morning, Shiro was awoken by a sharp cry of “Get out!”. He sat up, wondering what time it was and what the hell Matt was talking about. Then the other came into focus. He was covering his face in his hands and crouched down as if in immense pain. “Get out!” He cried again. 

 

“I… what?” Shiro stammered in confusion. 

 

“They’re coming for me!”

 

“Who?”

 

“When they get here I’m gonna lose it for good! There won’t be any more Matt!”

 

“I’m confused, what’s going on?” Shiro was slowly backing towards the doorway, now much more alert. This couldn’t be good. He heard Coran’s soft footsteps behind him. 

 

“Oh quiznak” the scientist mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Upon seeing Matt’s pale and horror-stricken features, he tensed. 

 

“You should probably listen to the boy, Shiro,” he said in a measured tone. He seemed too cautious. Shiro still hadn’t gotten any exclamation. 

 

He took a step towards Matt only to have Coran harshly yank him back. In the same moment, a chorus of howls sounded outside. Shiro turned to look at Matt and found him crouched on the ground, his hands covering his ears and his shoulders heaving. “I. Said. Get. Out.” He barked out. Shiro wasn’t in any way prepared when Matt dove at him, nor had he anticipated in Coran throwing him out of the way in the same moment that Matt’s teeth dug a gash into his right arm. With Coran between him and Shiro, Matt dove at Coran, the other’s last words being a plead for Shiro to run.

 

As Shiro stood up, he met eyes with Matt. The other slowly tore himself away from Coran’s neck; Shiro felt bile rise in his throat as he saw the blood dripping from Matt’s chin and the bits of pale skin embedded in his teeth. Everything had been fine just months ago. A hazy September evening just days before the war broke out seemed no more than a distant memory. Pidge’s grin as Matt handed her a prize he’d won at one of those seedy carnival games. And then they were scattered on the final day of the carnival, the air ringing with screams. How had this happened? Shiro slowly backed away, struggling to catch his breath. Somewhere in the back of his mind he already knew how this was going to end and his brain was simply screaming to run, to get the hell out of there and never look back. 

 

He bolted. Matt dove for him at that same moment but just barely missed when Shiro slammed the door behind him and frantically ran down the stairs. The front door would be no good because that’s where the howls were coming from. Shiro’s felt blood drip down his arm and knew that if he didn’t do something immediately, he would have the same fate as Matt. He ran into the garage, already feeling faint about what he had to do. An axe lay against a wall and Shiro tore a strip from the bottom of his shirt, tying a makeshift tourniquet around his upper arm. He hoped that the disease hadn’t spread past his arm yet. He grabbed the axe, steadying his arm against a worktable and closed his eyes.

 

Minutes later, Shiro was stumbling towards the back door with a dish towel secured to where his arm had been. Something banged upstairs and he could hear Matt’s voice, accompanied by a chorus of howls outside. 

 

The moment the door swung open, the frigidness of the air hit him, seeming to constrict his lungs. He was very aware of the sound of sloppy footsteps making their way down the stairs inside the house and more from outside. He had to decide quickly what his plan was or the hesitation might cost him his life.

 

He ran, slamming the door behind him just before Matt could reach him. The sound, no doubt, gained the attention of the other infected, who had probably already begun making their way to the backyard to investigate. Shiro flung himself over the neighbor’s fence, thankful for the fact it was solid. They might not be able to figure out where he went, that, coupled with the fact that the snow was filling his footprints faster than he could make them gave him somewhat of an advantage. He hoped that the snow wind would be enough to deter their attention from the scent of his blood.

 

He jumped a second fence and could see a forest just past the next house. It was probably risky, but Shiro didn’t have much of a choice. He glided into the cover of the trees, hoping to hell that he would make it out of the forest in one piece. The sun still wasn’t all the way up, making the shadows of the forest seem all the more intimidating. Everything was eerily quiet, too quiet, and Shiro didn’t like the feeling that churned in his stomach. Every so often, the silence would be broken by howls. They seemed far off, but still too close for comfort. 

 

Shiro didn’t want to think about the fact that Coran had died for him. He didn’t want to think about the fact that he’d probably see a lot more death than just Coran’s because, after all, the world as he once knew was coming to an end and the end could only mean one thing. He didn’t want to wonder how the world’s leaders could have been so ignorant and foolish as to think that spreading sickness wouldn’t backfire horribly. 

 

Shiro couldn’t feel his feet, but he kept running, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. He blinked them away, but the frigidness of the air caused them to burn his skin. He could make out a street through the trees. He headed that way, his lungs burning and his mind reeling every time that he heard those horrid howls. They were gaining on him, he didn’t have long now. 

 

Once on the street, the elements hit him full force. The blizzard had somehow managed to get even worse. Everything seemed to happen so quickly after that. There was a house. The nursery. A burning picture. Matt’s laughter. And then Shiro was standing at that window, slowly lowering his gun and turning around. His ears rang. Everything was horrifyingly final, and he knew he couldn’t dwell on it. Not now. He didn’t have the time to mourn, to think about what he had just done.

 

He turned away and exited the house through a side door. Everything was strangely calm and the blizzard had stopped. Now, only a few snowflakes lazily drifted through the air. The clouds moved to reveal sunlight. Everything seemed to glitter in a way that was almost blinding.

  
Without looking back, Shiro began his journey north.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance Fuentes finds himself in a plane crash with a mission to find the only other person he knew on the plane: Keith Kogane. Instead he finds two unlikely allies whose trustworthiness is questionable at best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't as gory as the last chapter, but still be wary!!

Lance Fuentes was not a man. He may have been as far as identity was concerned, but in reality he was a terrified little boy. He wanted to go home, to climb into his parents’ bed like he had when he was a little kid after waking up from nightmares. He wanted to go back to a time when his biggest fear had been something as mundane as enlisting in the Garrison. What he had now could only be considered hellish. 

 

He was wandering around the forest of an unfamiliar part of the country like some blind idiot. His knee was wrapped tightly in some cloth from his seat while his arm was in a makeshift sling. He wondered how his luck had ever gotten so rotten. The last thing he remembered was boarding an airplane for his flight home, and the familiar dark eyes from that Keith guy from his class. After that, all he could remember was the sensation of panic. And then he woke up, strapped to his seat in the middle of a snow bank. The answer was obvious: the plane had gone down, and in the process he was somehow ripped from it. Lance’s body ached from the impact, but he trudged on through the snow. He had to know what had happened to the rest of the plane. Where the hell was Keith?

 

Part of Lance thought that it was all ridiculous. Why was he searching for Keith? He’d only talked to the other boy a handful of times, and always told people that they were rivals, but he barely knew Keith when he thought about it. Another part of him came rushing in, telling him that it wasn’t ridiculous at all. The other was the only person that Lance even knew who was nearby. For the moment, he was all that he had left. 

 

An entire plane shouldn’t have been so hard to find. There should have been wreckage everywhere, thick clouds of smoke streaming up from it. That wasn’t the case. The wreckage was more scattered than Lance had anticipated. He found a broken corpse with its feet sticking out from under part of a wing. He resisted the urge to cry and kept pushing further. He had to be close to the bulk of the wreckage. He had to be close to Keith. 

 

When he found the body of the plane there were a few flames lingering. He held his breath as he surveyed it. There were rows upon rows of corpses. Some were charred from the fires, others were sliced up in grotesque ways from debris. Lance looked everywhere, but still found no sign of Keith. That had to mean one of two things: that he too had been ripped from the plane on its way down or that he had somehow survived the crash and wandered into the woods. Lance searched for signs of the latter and almost cried out when he found footprints leading away from the wreckage. It had to be Keith.

 

He followed the footprints at the quickest pace he could manage with his limp. His heart went in his throat when he saw a figure up ahead, resting against a tree. Lance shuffled closer and then his heart dropped with dismay. Whoever the person was, they sure as hell weren’t Keith. They were tall and lanky, with long hair tied back in a braid that matched the snow in color. With a deep set frown, he continued on towards the person. They still might be able to offer some help. He cleared the throat and the other leaped up, whirling around to meet eyes with Lance.

 

The first thing Lance noticed about the other’s face was the fact that his eyes were golden. They seemed to reflect the light off of them in an animal-like way, although he showed no signs of infection. The second thing he registered was the slow smile that spread across the stranger’s face. “You were in the plane too, no? I remember your face!” His accent was subtle and his voice was silky. His grin put Lance off. How could somebody be so cheerful in this situation? 

 

“Uh… yes I was,” the brunet said slowly, smiling. “You wouldn’t be able to help me find my friend would you? He’s... uh... just a little bit shorter than me, I think, and has black hair? It’s basically a mullet?”

 

The stranger hummed, nodding slowly, taking his time to think and recall what had happened. “Yes, I think I know who you’re talking about. I saw him slip as the plane began to descend, and then he was sucked out through a hole!” The smile remained as the stranger chuckled to himself. Lance willed himself not to shiver. The guy was kind of creepy and if it weren’t for the unfortunate situation that he was currently in, he’d be running the other way. 

 

“So you’ll help me then?” he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

 

“That, I will!” the stranger replied, beaming. Was this a game of hide and seek to him? Then, without warning, he thrust his hand towards Lance. “Lotor! And you are?”

 

“Lance Fuentes,” the other stammered, slowly taking the other’s hand with his free one. Lotor shook it almost viciously. 

 

“Lance Fuentes!” He nearly sang, “I like the sound of that name!” And then he muttered something about it feeling good on his lips that the brunet didn’t quite catch. He tried not to dwell on Lotor’s strange behavior. “Let’s go this way, then! I believe this was the direction that he flew in!” he proclaimed, gesturing to his right and then marching off before Lance could respond. He followed the other, hoping to hell that this stranger knew what he was talking about. He was a bit weird, but Lance hoped that it was just weirdness and nothing more.

 

They combed through the woods for what seemed to be hours on end. The heavy snow from the morning had stopped and now the sun was shining through the dead tree branches. It was almost beautiful, with the glittering snowflakes and clear sky. Almost. Every time they came across wreckage, Lotor would put a hand up and the would slowly slink up to it, like it was some sort of ambush. When Lance questioned the other as to why they had to act so cautious, he replied something about never being too careful; the plane crash had been caused because of one of the infected. Lance shivered at the thought of being on a plane with one of them. 

 

His stomach rumbled and he almost complained about hunger, but he caught himself before speaking. It would be useless to complain, given the current situation. He started looking at the trees, trying to distract himself from his stomach, but instead of being a distraction they caused a deep dread to settle within. How hadn’t he noticed before? Strung high in the branches were corpses. It was obvious that they had been infected by one of the diseases, though it was hard to say which one. The only one that Lance was able to cancel out was that zombie one. Somewhere along the way he had stopped walking and begun gaping at the corpses. 

 

Lotor noticed and gazed up at the corpses with distaste. “AV1” he murmured. “Wonder how it spread so much here?” He nodded at Lotor, indicating that they needed to keep moving. He followed the other, but he couldn’t get the trees out of his mind. From what he knew of the diseases, AV1 was the rarest. If it was so widespread in this area, it couldn’t be a good sign. 

 

His stomach lurching was the only warning he had before he collapsed to his knees, retching out what little had been left in his stomach. He looked up and saw three Lotors running towards him and felt smooth hands pick him up just before everything went black.

 

-

 

A faint crackling and the feeling of something wet on his forehead were what woke Lance Fuentes up. He slowly opened his eyes and saw that the sky had gotten darker and that Lotor was tending to a fire. He peeled the moist fabric from his head and realised that it was a part of the other man’s coat. Why had Lotor helped him? He could have abandoned him when he blacked out, but he didn’t. Lance almost smiled. 

 

Instead, he just watched Lotor. He had turned away from Lance and the fire now, and was fiddling with something in the snow. “What are you doing?”

 

Lotor turned to face the other and held up a red jacket that was all too familiar. “Does this belong to your friend?”

 

-

 

The moment he had recognized the jacket, Lance had wanted to continue searching. Lotor had advised against it, saying that the other was still too weak and it would be dangerous to wander around the forest in the middle of the night. When the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the forest Lance was up, gathering what little he had and assuring Lotor that he was fine. Keith had to be close. He  _ had  _ to be. 

 

The weather that day proved to be almost worse than the previous day’s: it wasn’t snowing, but it was much warmer and the heat and sunlight was melting the snow very quickly. The pair kept getting stuck in mud or slipping into puddles. If it weren’t for the fact that it was the end of the world Lance might have laughed and turned the whole situation into a game or a joke. The reality, however, was that this was nothing to take lightheartedly and that every slip up made them another foot further away from finding Keith. Something in the back of Lance’s mind was shouting that it was all useless, that the other might already be dead. Why would he have abandoned his coat in the middle of winter? Who could be so reckless? 

 

At one point in the middle of the day Lotor abruptly put his hand in front of Lance, holding his other hand to his lips. Then he pulled out a gun and shot. Lance’s heart lept into his throat and he opened his mouth to ask what the hell that had been, but then he saw what Lotor had shot: a deer. They took a break and built up a fire. As hungry as Lance had been, he found himself eating very little. Lotor produced a bag out of nowhere and stowed the rest of the leftover meat in it. 

 

They continued trudging on through the forest, feeling energized from the meal. Lance felt slightly at more at ease than he had the previous day. The forest of corpses was long gone. The trees towered above the pair and every once in awhile animals scampered past. Despite the fact that it was still rather cold, Lance had broken into a sweat under the sun’s intense rays. Other than the two of their footsteps everything was quiet. 

 

As evening became to near, Lance began to feel hopeless. They still had no sign of Keith other than the jacket and Lotor barely said anything. All he did was stare ahead with an intense seriousness. Was he looking for somebody too? 

 

The pair of them pushed forward, and Lotor handed him some meat to snack on as they walked. It was cold, but Lance couldn’t complain. He was licking at his fingers when a hoarse voice sounded somewhere in the trees. “The fuck are you doing here!?” 

 

The pair of them stopped in their tracks. It couldn’t have been directed at Lance, and by the frown that settled on Lotor’s lips, he could tell that whoever this was would probably be trouble. 

 

“Haggar, what a pleasure,” Lotor said calmly, sounding bored, “come out, come out, wherever you are. I haven’t seen your wrinkly ass in ages~”

 

Some muttered curses and the rustling of somebody moving were the only warning that Lance had before an older woman leaped out of nowhere. When he looked over towards Lotor he saw him pinned against the ground with the other straddling him. He didn’t look very happy to see Haggar, especially with the club that she held above her head. 

 

“Please don’t,” Lance said, surprised by how shaky his voice sounded. The pair whirled to glare at Lance as if he had interrupted something intimate. 

 

“Why shouldn’t I?” Haggar said, scrunching up her nose. 

 

“Because…” he stammered, “He’s helping me! I- I need to find my friend and he’s helping me search!” Lance was positive that he sounded like a complete idiot. 

 

Haggar paused for a moment as if she was contemplating whether or not to hear Lance out. Then she spoke more calmly, “What do they look like? Your friend?” She continued to hold the club above her head. 

 

“Oh… well… um… he’s a little shorter than me..” Lance began to say the same spiel he had said to Lotor the previous day, “... and his eyes are like a dark purple-y color?” he trailed off, hoping that Haggar might be of some use.

 

The other frowned and stood up from Lotor, brushing her pants off. The action did nothing to clean the mud that was caked to them. “Well you’re probably not going to like this… but I’m pretty sure I saw that guy with a pair last night. They weren’t very friendly and from the looks of it, your friend was trying to get away,” she shrugged.

 

Lance’s breath caught. Haggar and Lotor exchanged knowing glances. After a long pause, the brunet finally spoke. “What?” The other two remained silent. “We’ve got to help him. We can’t just leave him!” Lance felt his hands begin to shake. It wasn’t fair. They couldn’t just leave Keith to die. 

 

Keith was the only person that he knew might be alive. 

 

That was what he kept telling himself, but the back of his mind kept saying that he never actually knew the other. He barely talked to him. He’d talked to Lotor more in the past two days that he had with Keith ever. Why was he going through the struggle for somebody he barely knew?

 

Haggar sighed and Lance was shook from his thoughts. “Listen, kid, even if the three of us worked together to go after your friend the chances of all of us getting out of there alive are pretty slim. I know the guys he’s with and they’re bad news.”

 

“You know them?”

 

“Yeah. There’s a kid. Doesn’t seem that scary at a glance but they mean business. They’ve got a large guy with them who could probably crush you.”

  
  


Lance frowned. “But that’s only two people. There’s three of us. We outnumber them!” 

 

Haggar shrugged. “We may, but I know nothing of your ability to fight, but even if you could, it’s that kid who you have to watch out for the most. They might look like nothing to you, but believe me when I tell you that it is a bad thing to be outwitted by them, and like I said before, the other guy could crush you without trying. If this Keith really means that much to you, we can bring follow their trail, but don’t expect us to hang around.”

  
Lance gaped at the old woman. She looked frail, but she also spoke with the authority of someone who had fought many battles. He nodded slowly. If it meant finding Keith, he would do whatever it took. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, please let me know what you think in the comments! /Constructive/ criticism is always appreciated!!
> 
> EDIT: thank you for pointing out the names I forgot to change lmao rewriting my own fics is ha r d


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura finds herself burdened with three strangers and takes them in. 
> 
> Keith wants to know how long it will be before he can leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to delete most of what I had originally written for this chapter and start fresh because a lot of the backstory that happened in my og fic doesn't work for the characters I have now! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!

The coffee was too hot. Allura drank it anyway, staring out the window as it scalded her tongue. It had stopped snowing the previous day and now the earth had been reduced to a muddy soup. Not very pleasing to the eye.

 

How Allura was able to have luxuries like coffee and a house and electricity was beyond her. By some miracle she had survived the end of the world in a bittersweet peace. She might have had comfort, but what did it matter. Comfort should have been the least of her concerns, yet here she was wasting her days drinking coffee and reading while others perished in the cold and fought each other. 

 

Some commotion outside caught her eye. There was a group of three people. The smallest and largest of the trio held the third person by their arms, struggling to drag them towards the house. Allura stood up too quickly, her vision briefly tunneling and her coffee splashing onto her lap. She grimaced and sat the mug down, gliding to the entrance and throwing the door open.

 

“If you’re here to bring me the infected, I’ll have nothing to do with you,” she shouted, causing the group to stop in their tracks and stare at her with an equal amount of wonder and fear. 

 

“No, ma'am, he’s not infected. Just injured!” The smallest of the trio piped up, their voice cracking. “We were hoping to seek shelter here for a while and try to patch him up. We only gotta stay until he’s healed!”

 

Allura hummed, crossing her arms and staring at the group closer. The smallest one couldn’t have been any older than 17 and even that was pushing it. The other two appeared to be anywhere from 18-21. Allura didn’t want to think about how much the apocalypse had impacted everybody. Everybody that she knew was either dead or missing. What harm could a few kids do. Slowly, she stepped to the side, holding the door open for the trio. 

 

“Thank you, miss,” the largest one said, nodding as they entered the house. Allura shrugged and slowly shut the door behind her, taking care to make sure that it was locked. 

 

“May we?” The smaller one spoke again, gesturing to the couch. Allura nodded, watching as the pair laid the unconscious boy onto it.

 

“So if he’s not infected by anything, what the hell happened to him,” she asked, peering down at the scars and burns that were littered across his body.

 

“Found him in the woods. Plane crash,” the larger one said. 

 

Allura hummed and then without another word, left the room, returning with a medical kit, as well as some clean clothes. 

 

“I need you guys to hold him up while I strip him and clean his wounds,” she said in a matter of fact tone. The other two’s eyebrows shot up. Neither of them had expected to find someone this prepared for an emergency. Then they both nodded, moving the stranger into a sitting up position and helping take his shirt off. His breathing quickened slightly, but other than that, there was no sign of him feeling anything. Slowly, Allura began cleaning and dressing the wounds. Surprisingly, the boy didn’t wake up until she reached his right arm. 

 

He awoke with a scream and tried to fight Allura off. “I’m trying to help you, calm down,” she said, although she definitely did not sound calm. The boy continued to struggle against her as the other two tried to hold him back by the shoulders. “Don’t take this personally,” she said, bringing her fist to his face.

 

-

 

When Keith Kogane awoke, the first thing that he was aware of was the immense pain that he was in. The second thing that he was aware of was that he had absolutely no idea where he was, nor how he had gotten there. His memories were a jumbled mess. He had been on a plane. That annoying kid from his class was there. There was shouting and soon after, he felt the world lurch. Then there had been nothing.

 

He slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, eyes wandering around the room. He was in a bedroom, that much was clear. It looked clean, but he noticed with discomfort that a fine layer of dust covered most of the furniture. There was a photo on the bedside table of a beautiful dark skinned woman, wearing what appeared to be graduation robes. At her side was an older man with a mustache- a professor perhaps? Next to the photo was a vase that held several wilted flowers. 

 

Keith slowly slid off of the bed, ignoring the way that his muscles screamed as he stretched. Now was not exactly the time to lounge around. He needed to figure out where he was, who had saved him, and the next course of action. A look out the window told him that going home was out of the question, or at least it was for a moment. There was snow all over some of the ground although most of it was melting into the mud. Either way, he knew that he was far from home. 

 

He shuffled towards the doorway of the room and made his way down the hall. There were a few photos hung up on the wall: a couple more of the same woman from before as well as a few containing an older gentleman with the same colored hair. He heard voices down the hall and his instinct was to hide, but whoever was there had been the ones who saved him, no doubt. Besides, hiding at this point would be futile. So instead, he continued his way down the hall into what must’ve been the living room. 

 

There were three people in the room: the first two, a large guy with warm skin and round eyes and a smaller person with a mess of dishwater blonde hair and glasses, looked vaguely familiar. Ah yes, they had been the ones who had brought him here. He remembered deliriously fighting against them when they had found him collapsed on the forest floor. The last one was the same woman from the photos. His jaw hurt and he vaguely remembered her punching him the… how long had it been? 

 

The trio looked up when Keith entered the room, staring at him like he was a ghost. “You’re awake,” the woman was the first to speak. She had an accent and her voice was warm and welcoming. 

 

“Who are you people? How long have I been here?” Keith’s throat burned as he tried to speak. 

 

“My name is Allura. This is my home and I’m the one who cleaned your wounds and bandaged you up.”

 

“Thank you, then,” he turned to face the other two.

 

“They call me Pidge. That guy’s Hunk,” the smaller person said, pointing a thumb at their companion. “We’re the ones that dragged you here from the forest. Glad that it wasn’t for nothing,” they grinned.

 

“And we brought you here about three days ago. We were all starting to worry a little so we’re glad you’re awake!” Hunk said, laughing nervously.

 

“Three days? I’ve been asleep for three days?” Keith stared at the group with wide eyes. If he was still in considerable pain now, he couldn’t imagine how much worse it had been before they found him. He knew that he had woken up a handful of times but he could barely remember what had happened any of the times, probably due to the pain.

 

“Yes. We’ve been checking up on you periodically the whole time, so unfortunately you’ll have to stay put for a few more days. We can’t risk your wounds getting infected, especially with all the diseases going around,” Allura said calmly. 

 

Keith wanted to argue with her. He didn’t want to feel like a sitting duck, but he knew that she was right. It was a miracle that he had survived the plane crash with as minimal injury as he did, and an even greater miracle that Pidge and Hunk had happened to stumble upon him in the forest. They didn’t save him for nothing. So instead of arguing, he just nodded. 

 

“You must be starving,” Allura began again, after an awkward silence. “I’ll make you something light to eat. Don’t try to eat too much at once though, or you’ll get sick,” she stood up and walked down the hall towards the kitchen. Keith followed her, taking a seat on a stool against a breakfast bar. He watched as she moved around the kitchen, first filling up a glass of water and placing it in front of him, telling him to drink it slowly. She pulled out a box of oatmeal and began to make it for Keith. He frowned, but he supposed that there wasn’t exactly an abundance of other foods lying around. It was the middle of winter and the apocalypse- eggs were probably out of the question as were most meats. 

 

He carefully sipped his water, drumming his fingers against the table slowly. Allura pulled her long hair back into a ponytail as she waited for the microwave timer to go off. Keith noticed that the photos hadn’t done her much justice. Her skin was smooth and her hair was a shocking shade of silver that cascaded down her back even when it was tied back. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he was gay, he might have even fancied her. 

 

When the timer finally went out, she grabbed a dish towel and carefully pulled the bowl out of the microwave. She stirred it around briefly and then placed the dish on the bar in front of Keith. 

“Eat up,” she said, watching him expectantly. 

 

“Thank you for your generosity,” Keith murmured, digging the spoon in and softly blowing on the oatmeal before taking a bite. It was still a little too hot to eat and he winced as he swallowed it. It was bland and the texture was mushy, but at least it was food. If he’d been out for multiple days then he really needed food. He alternated between small bites of the oatmeal and sips of the water. Already he was starting to feel a little, better, and now he could feel the hunger pangs after actually eating something, but he forced himself to take his time. Allura, seeming satisfied with the pace that he was eating at, eventually left the room. 

 

As Keith finished eating the oatmeal and drinking the water, he filled his glass back up and rinsed out his bowl, placing it in the sink with the other dishes. He wandered back into the living room with his glass and sat in a recliner in the corner. His body seemed to sink into the cushions and he felt the urge to go back to sleep, but he’d already slept for three days. He didn’t need it, surely. 

 

Despite the fact that he wanted to just relax, Pidge and Hunk seemed to have other plans. The two had perked up the moment that Keith had entered the room and he watched them warily, waiting. He could feel the interrogation coming on. 

 

“So, you never told us your name,” Pidge began, staring at Keith with an intensity that told him that his name was definitely not all that they wanted to know.

 

“It’s Keith,” he muttered, taking a sip of his water. 

 

“Alright then,  _ Keith,  _ do you want to tell us your story?”

 

Keith sighed, sinking deeper into the chair. “I’m sure you know that I was in that plane crash already, but I don’t really remember very much, sorry.”

 

“Was there anybody you knew on the plane with you? Family? Friends?”

 

“Don’t have any family, and not many friends. The only person I even sorta knew was some jerk from my class,” he mumbled. 

 

Pidge raised an eyebrow, “A jerk from your class? What made him a jerk?”

 

Keith rolled his eyes.  _ Surely that couldn’t have been the most important thing to find out about.  _ “Barely knew him but for some reason he had a beef with me. I didn’t talk to him much but the only conversations we had were him making fun of my hair and trying to one-up me. Is that actually that important to know?”

 

Pidge shrugged, humming, “Nope, not really. Just curious is all. Wonder if he survived the plane crash... “ they trailed off, resting their chin in their hand. “Anyways, do you know why the plane crashed?”

 

“Beats me. I barely remember anything. I just got on the plane and not very long after we had taken off, there was a commotion up front. People started yelling, and the plane started to go down. I don’t remember anything that happened after that very clearly.” 

 

“Maybe it was one of the infected?” Hunk spoke up, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration. 

 

“That sounds like a likely cause if there was that big of a commotions. Maybe people crashed the plane on purpose then?” Pidge said, nodding slowly. 

 

“I guess that could have happened. Is any of this actually relevant to anything though?” Keith took another sip of his water. 

 

“Don’t know. The plane crashed relatively nearby so we could run into other survivors, and there’s also the possibility that the loudness of it could have attracted the attention of any infected. Luckily, we’re far enough away from the crash site that we probably shouldn’t have to deal with too much. Still, you can never be too careful,” Pidge said slowly, pushing up their glasses with a thin finger. 

 

-

 

Days began to pass and Allura was finally starting to get used to the three newcomers in her house. Keith mostly kept to himself, but he seemed to be recovering remarkably well. He would be able to leave soon if he wished to. Pidge and Hunk didn’t cause too many problems, but Allura constantly caught Pidge wandering through different rooms of the house, rummaging through books, electronics, anything really. She supposed that the other wasn’t causing harm in poking through her belongings, but she was still curious. Hunk also wandered a bit, usually with Pidge, but he didn’t rummage through as much as the other, and mostly Allura found him in the kitchen, poking through the food she had and looking at the ingredients. He had taken to making meals for them out of what little was available and Allura was thankful for it. She could cook, but she was never the best at it. She could make the basics and that was about it. Hunk’s cooking, on the other hand, was amazing. He was able to make something great even out of what little was available to him. 

 

She would have been content sharing the house with the three of them for as long as they pleased, considering all of them were fairly pleasant people. Well, she hadn’t really talked to Keith much since he had woken up, but he didn’t cause problems, and that was more than enough to please Allura. 

 

Unfortunately, luck would have it that there would be more newcomers. One morning, as she had been brewing herself a pot of coffee, a knock came upon the door. She raised an eyebrow with a frown and opened the door to see yet another trio, this one even stranger than the last.

 

A tanned brunet who held a shaky smile. 

 

A slim young man with hair almost the same length and color as her own. 

 

An elderly woman with similar hair, whose face was concealed by her hood. 

 

The woman was the first to speak.

 

“Is there a boy by the name of Keith here by any chance?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know in any place throughout the first 7 chapters of this if I forgot to change a name! If you don't remember, I'm writing this fic using an old fic that I had started using hetalia and haikyuu!! because I'm not particularly interested in those fandoms anymore! Since most of it, I'm able to just change names/pronouns and description, there might be some parts that I missed! 
> 
> As always /constructive/ criticism is always appreciated and please let me know other thoughts in the comments !


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance finally finds Keith
> 
> There's banter and pettyness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much happens during this chapter lmao

“I remember your face,” The woman at the door spoke, ignoring Haggar’s question and sending a piercing glare at Lotor. 

 

Lance stared at her in awe. She was gorgeous. No description that he could possibly think of would do her any justice. The corner of his mouth twitched as he fought the urge to grin at her.

 

“Maybe so, but I won’t be here long,” Lotor began with a sigh. “I’m just here to deliver this young man,” Lance shivered at the look Lotor gave him, “to the one whom he wishes to see so desperately.”

 

Lance frowned. He already had been unsure of Lotor from the start, but the way he spoke at that moment was… uncomfortable to say the least. He also didn’t like the way that Lotor made him sound obsessed. He was, and the idea of being around somebody that he actually sort of knew gave him a great deal of comfort, but Lotor made it sound like there was much more to it than that and Lance definitely did not want to think about that idea.

 

“Right. So you’re looking for Keith then?” This time, the woman set her crystalline eyes on Lance and he fought the blush that wanted to creep up his neck. He slowly nodded. She made a weird face. “Then you must be that jerk he mentioned being on the plane with him,” she said. 

 

Lance’s shoulders slumped and he sighed, but didn’t argue as she stepped aside, allowing the three of them entrance. There were a couple of people sitting in the living room and from the looks of them, they had been the ones that Haggar had made sound absolutely terrified. Lance looked at them both with a raised eyebrow. Whoever they were, they looked harmless. 

 

The smaller of the two hopped up from the couch and extended a small hand to him. “I’m Pidge! Does the asshole have a name?” 

 

“Lance, and did Keith really make me sound  _ that  _ bad?” Lance frowned as he shook the other’s hand. 

 

“No,” the larger of the pair spoke up, making his way to Lance and slapping a hand against his back with enough force that he almost fell over, “he barely said anything about you. About all he said was that you’re a jerk. I’m Hunk by the way, and just for the record, you don’t seem too awful!” He laughed heartily. Lance frowned. Maybe he could trust these people. At this rate, they seemed miles more trustworthy than Lotor or Haggar.

 

-

 

When Keith woke up, he hadn’t been expecting to see a figure in a jacket staring down at him. He blinked a couple of times until more features came into focus; the person was definitely familiar, but they weren’t Allura, nor were they Pidge or Hunk. His mind reeled for a moment before he realised that it was Lance fucking Fuentes. What the hell was he doing here?

 

He vaguely remembered seeing him on the plane, but the memories of the whole ordeal still seemed foggy and distant. He knew that the plane had crashed, but he didn’t really remember much between the plane originally starting its descent and waking up in Allura’s living room. Apparently, he had tried to punch Hunk in the nose when they found him, but he wasn’t entirely sure he trusted that Pidge’s words.

 

The boy next to him stammered for words to say, but all that managed to come out was a garbled: “Thank God you’re alive”. 

 

“Why are you here?” Keith immediately realized how harsh those words had sounded right after he said him, but there wasn’t really any way to take them back.

 

“I’m not entirely sure myself. I just…” Lance paused, searching for a better way to say what he needed to. “You were the only one I knew so I felt like I needed to find you. Sorry if that’s… yeah…” he trailed off. 

 

Keith was slightly more awake and he took a moment to let Lance’s words sink in. “No, I understand,” he murmured. He didn’t say anything else for a while and Lance stood up to leave him alone. He looked like he was about to fall back asleep or already had. 

 

“Hey.” Lance stopped in the doorway at the sound of the other’s voice and turned to face him. “Get some sleep, asshole- you look like a ghost.” 

 

Lance felt his face heat up, but nodded and left the room. 

 

-

 

When Allura had seen Lance hang a red jacket in the closet, she had almost questioned it, but then she thought better of it. The kid looked like he might break down at the slightest objection, and she could only imagine the hell he had been through. As tragic as Allura’s past was, it seemed to her that each person she met had one that was worse. 

 

Lance, Keith, and Lotor- all in a plane that had gone down due to an infected person being on board. According to Lotor, he couldn’t find any other survivors of the crash and was shocked that two teenage boys had managed to make it out alive. 

 

Apparently the child Pidge had been separated from her brother and his partner during a fair, and hadn’t seen either of them since. They had made it their mission to find them no matter what the costs would be.

 

Hunk barely spoke about his past and all that Allura had managed to find out was that the entire village that he was from had gotten infected except for him.

 

Allura distracted herself by checking the newcomers for wounds. Haggar seemed fine, save for a few bruises, but Lotor had a series of gashes across his back. If Allura hadn’t insisted on checking for injuries, she would have never known about them; Lotor acted like he was just fine. Allura was surprised to find that the wounds hadn’t yet been infected, considering they had probably been caused by the plane crash from days ago. She quickly got to work with cleaning them out. Lotor may have made some mistakes but now that he was here, she felt obligated to help. His wounds turned out to be wider than anticipated.

 

“Looks like he’s gonna need stitches,” Allura murmured, rummaging through her box. 

 

“No offence, ma’am, but are you even a doctor? What if you make it worse?” Haggar asked, poking her head out from the kitchen where she had taken residence for the past half an hour. 

 

“I’m not a doctor, no, but my family had wanted me to be. They made me go to medical school before they realised it was a lost cause. Besides, me giving him stitches should be the least of your concerns right now.” Allura replied.

 

“I suppose you’re right” Haggar sighed, putting her hands up defensively and retreating back into the kitchen. Allura was positive that the other was up to no good. 

 

Lance had the luck of walking into the room right as Allura set to work on Lotor. He took one look at the gashes on the man’s back and any redness that had been in his cheeks vanished. He kept walking, keeping his eyes trained to the ground and taking slow breaths. He didn’t want to get sick again, and chances were if he did, he probably would struggle with getting any rest. Unlike the other day when he had passed out, he usually couldn’t rest at all when he was sick. If he didn’t feel well, he’d usually stress himself out to the point of vomiting until there was nothing left, and even then, he’d have to take sleep medication in order to get any rest _.  _ He wasn’t too confident that Allura had sleep medication, despite how prepared she seemed for everything. Instead, Lance just pushed the bloody images to the back of his mind and found an unoccupied room.

 

It looked to be a kid’s room, and if the lack of kid was any sign, Lance assumed they had probably passed from a disease. He curled up in a random corner, feeling already like he was trespassing, but every other room was occupied. He fell asleep with his face pressed against the baby blue carpet.

 

-

 

When Keith woke for the second time that day, he vaguely recalled his conversation with Lance. It was obvious that the other felt uncomfortable from his obsessive search for him, but Keith decided that it was forgivable. If he were in his shoes, he probably would have done the same thing, or at the very least worried about the situation of the other. It was surprising that of all people to survive the crash, it was the one person on the plane that he knew, but he was thankful for it. 

 

It wasn’t that he wouldn’t be able to get along with the guys who had saved him, because he already seemed to be getting on with them miraculously. It was more the idea of having someone he knew to talk to, someone from the same place. 

 

This time around, Keith found himself with more energy and decided to try getting out of bed. Besides, he still didn’t even know how Lance had managed to find him, or for that matter,  _ who  _ had helped him. 

 

When he walked into the living room, Allura was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was a slender man with hair similar to Allura’s and an elderly woman. The slender one smiled when he saw Keith enter the room. Keith’s automatic response was to cross his arm and continue to examine the other.

 

“You must be Keith!” 

 

“So you’ve heard of me, hm? Hopefully Lance didn’t damage my reputation too much,” he took a seat on a recliner across from the other two. The older of the two gaped at Keith for a moment and he decided to hold her gaze, his expression blank. 

 

Finally the woman got uncomfortable and broke eye-contact, murmuring something along the lines of “Well this should be interesting”. Keith didn’t say anything in response to the statement, but filed it away in his mind. 

 

“Ah, you’re awake,” Allura said, entering the room with a fresh cup of coffee. While Keith had been there for about a week now, although passed out for a decent amount of that time, he had noticed that Allura always had coffee on hand. It was a small and unimportant detail, but those were the details that Keith liked best. 

 

“Yes, and I just had the pleasure of meeting these two,” he replied after a moment, letting the words hang in the air. 

 

“Anyways, how did you guys find me?” 

 

The older woman looked up and stared at Keith intensely. Then she took a deep breath, “Well I was wandering through the woods and I saw you with a couple of people. I recognized them and I thought maybe they had darkside or something because it looked like you were struggling. I decided it was best not to get involved because I was greatly outnumbered. Then I found Lotor and Lance...” she hummed, closing her eyes for a moment. “Lance begged us to search for you, and described you pretty accurately might I add. His persistence was intriguing considering it didn’t seem like he knew you too well.”

 

“Interesting… not all that surprised by his persistence, though…” Keith nodded, staring off at the sad-looking Christmas tree across the room. Without any other words, he got up and walked to the kitchen. He was never really great at keeping conversation going.

 

He took a couple of painkillers- mostly for his arm, and then grabbed a granola bar and nibbled at it slowly. He hoped to God that every day wouldn’t be like this. He had gotten somewhat used to the group that had saved him, getting along the best with that Pidge, but he wasn’t sure at all how good he’d get on with the two new strangers- or Lance for that matter. The brunet had seemed genuinely worried about him earlier, but Keith wondered if that would eventually fade off. 

 

As if on cue, the other wandered into the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes. From the way he moved, it was clear that he didn’t notice the fact that there was another person in the room. He rummaged through a cupboard and found some oatmeal. He poured it into a bowl and then put some water in and stuck the dish in the microwave. When he still didn’t acknowledge Keith, the darker-haired boy cleared his throat loudly. He snickered when Lance lept at least a foot into the air and shouted. 

 

“Not funny, Mullet,” he whined, frowning and staring at the other, who just shrugged and bit into his granola bar. 

 

“What time did you get here?” Keith asked instead of offering an apology. 

 

Lance shrugged. “I dunno. I kinda lost track of time. It was pretty late. I know when we first talked it was around 2 am.” 

 

“So you basically watched me sleep.”

 

“I was worried-”

 

“But you watched me  _ sleep _ .”

 

The brunet sighed, seeing that Keith wasn’t going to let him get out of that one. “Yeah, I guess, but not in an Edward Cullen way, if that’s what you’re saying…”

 

At that, Keith snorted. “Okay, whatever- but I’m holding that against you, Lance,” he said.

 

Lance felt his cheeks heat up a little. “Fine,” he grumbled.

 

The microwave timer started going off and he pulled the bowl out. It was a little hotter than he expected and he dropped it on the counter when it burnt his skin. He could feel Keith’s eyes on him, watching, speculating, judging. He pulled a spoon out of a drawer a little too violently, causing two more to go flying and clamor to the ground. The noise drew Allura in.

 

“Is everything fine in here?” Her eyebrows were drawn together in concern.

 

“Yes-” Lance began to croak, but Keith cut him off.

 

“Yes, it’s perfectly fine! Lance just burnt himself!” That damned smile was too sincere. Lance wanted to scream. Instead he offered an apologetic smile that looked as fake as it felt. Allura raised an eyebrow and turned to leave the room, pausing in the doorway.

 

“Make sure you clean up after yourselves,” she muttered before finally making her exit.

 

“Yessir!” Keith peeped, mock-saluting Allura’s retreating back. 

 

Lance glared at the other and perched on the counter. He didn’t want to sit at the same table as Keith, as petty as it sounded. He took a bite of his oatmeal and his eyes watered because he really should have let it cool. 

 

“You’re like a little kid throwing a tantrum,” Keith murmured, his smile dropping. He crumpled up his wrapper, deciding that it would be best to leave the other alone. 

 

Part of Lance wanted to follow Keith as he left, but then what? He didn’t have anything to say so why follow? He finished his oatmeal in bitter silence, then rinsed off his dish and went to get some fresh air. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, please let me know your thoughts in the comments!! /Constructive/ criticism is always appreciated!! 
> 
> Also after around chapter 7 my updates are gonna be a lot slower but I'll try to get a chapter posted once every week or two when I get there !!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being trapped on a boat with infected people is not exactly the situation that Rolo, Nyma, and Ulaz want to be in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so they're all aged down- not that any of them really have confirmed ages, but Rolo and Nyma are just slightly older than K/L/H in this fic and Ulaz is slightly older than Shiro's age :0

There was commotion out on the deck. The night was clear and shouts filled the air. Nyma turned from where she was staring at the murky sea to examine the situation. A couple of men were fighting, it seemed. Perhaps alcohol was involved, but it was hard to tell. They both seemed hysterical. She watched for another moment, taking in the details of the scene.

 

The first man was small, shouting something in chinese. Nyma couldn’t understand most of what he was saying, but he was pale. He looked terrified. The other man was yelling back in Japanese. He was telling the first to calm down and to get a grip on himself. Why was he suddenly acting so paranoid, he kept persisting. In between shouts, the first man kept coughing. Blood dripped from his mouth.  

 

Whatever was happening, Nyma didn’t like the looks of it. It was familiar. She’d heard about the disease that the North Koreans created. Could this possibly…? She rolled the thought around in her mind before leaving the deck to head back to her room. She’d tell the others- get their thoughts on it. 

 

When she entered the small compartment, Rolo and Ulaz were sitting at a dingy table playing cards. “It’s about time,” came Rolo’s lazy slur, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Ulaz slumped back into his chair, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes- a sign that whatever Rolo was grinning about was probably absolutely ridiculous. 

 

“Whatever it is can wait, I have something kinda urgent,” Nyma said, getting right to the point. Rolo raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything more. Ulaz stared back attentively. 

 

Nyma took a deep breath, running a hand through her hair. “I think we may have a problem. When I was up there,” she gestured towards the ceiling, “there were a couple of men fighting. The first one was speaking Chinese so I could barely understand him, but from what the second one was saying, it sounded like the first one may have been sick.”

 

“Which disease?” Ulaz asked. 

 

“The Korean one…” Nyma murmured. 

 

“That’s the one that fucks up your lungs and makes you paranoid right? Doesn’t that spread easily?” Rolo asked, eyes widening.

 

“Exactly my point.”

 

“Well what are we gonna do? We can’t just stay on a boat with somebody infected because it’ll spread!” 

 

“Exactly. That’s why I came here as soon as I realised what was going on,” Nyma said with a frown. 

 

“We could escape. There’s some lifeboats. Just take what we absolutely need and wait for it to get a little later, and then steal one and get off this place-”

 

“-before we all die.” Rolo cut Ulaz off, finishing his sentence in a grave tone. 

 

“Only problem is, do you know for sure that he’s sick? Even if we steal a lifeboat, there’s no telling what will happen after that? How will we figure out how to find land? We’re in the middle of the ocean so there’s no telling how long it will be before...” Ulaz trailed off. 

 

“He’s got a good point,” Rolo said, cupping his chin in a hand. 

 

“Well, I’m pretty positive he’s sick, but if you guys don’t believe me, be my guest and go take a look for yourselves. I’m sure they’re both still up there.” 

 

The other two looked at each other and then got up and left the room. 

 

“What if she’s just trying to scare us!” Rolo said, his voice echoing in through the stairwell. Ulaz sighed and rolled his eyes. 

 

“I’m pretty sure that Nyma is smart enough to know not to stoop to that level. Given what’s happening around the world right now, it would be stupid to joke about any of the sicknesses.”

 

Rolo just shrugged in response and pushed open the door in front of them. The cold air smacked their faces as they emerged onto the deck. It was unnervingly quiet, and for a moment, Ulaz thought that there was nobody there, but then he noticed a man crumpled in the corner. Ulaz gave Rolo  _ the look-  _ the one that told him not to say a word. The pair of them crept closer to the man. He was nursing a wound on his arm that was bleeding heavily. 

 

“Excuse me,” Ulaz began softly, “are you okay?” 

 

The man looked up, his eyes widening, and then he gasped out one word: Run. 

 

Rolo stared at Ulaz in confusion and they stood there for a moment. Why was he telling them to run? Then a cry came from the other end of the deck and they turned to see a dark figure running towards them.    
  


Rolo let out a stream of curses and the two of them ran at a mad sprint back to the stairs, almost tripping down the stairs and slamming their door shut as they ran into the room. Nyma stared at them both with wide eyes.

 

“What the fuck happened?” 

 

“We need to get out of here,  _ now.  _ Screw packing up anything, if we’re not off of this boat soon we’re all going to die!” Ulaz shouted, his voice straining. He usually never lost his cool like that, but it was obvious that his usual calmness wouldn’t help right now. Nyma and Rolo took Ulaz’s response as reason enough to straighten up and follow Ulaz back out the door. Neither of the men were anywhere to be seen as they crept back up the stairs, this time heading for the area that the lifeboats were kept in. 

 

They slipped into the first one and lowered it as quickly and quietly as possible. The only sound they made was the splash as the boat finally hit the water. The droplets stung as they hit their skin, but there were more important things to worry about. One of the men from before peered over the edge of the deck, hissing. He looked like he was about ready to jump after them, prompting Rolo to push them away from the boat with an oar. They watched as the boat slowly moved away from them in silence, wondering what would happen to the rest of the passengers on board. 

 

-

 

Their first night on the lifeboat was restless; they were chilled to the bone from the men on the main boat. The air was bitterly cold. The next day, the trio decided to see what was on board. There was a first aid kit, a pack of water bottles, some dried food, tools for fishing, a few flares, and a pack of matches. There was no real way to tell where they were headed except for the sun; they decided to row away from it in the morning and towards it during the afternoon. Their ship had departed from a Canadian port, so they assumed that they were closer to that cost than that of Europe. It was the best chance they had. 

 

They spent the good part of an hour sorting through the food and rationing it- trying to decide how to make it last as long as possible. It seemed the best option, considering that even if they caught fish they barely had any way of cooking it. Eating it raw would likely cause more damage than help, Ulaz decided. 

 

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky that day, and Nyma spent a decent amount of time peering over the edge into the endless ocean. It  unnerved her. Here they were stranded in the middle of a vast blueness on nothing but a small lifeboat. It was big enough for at least seven other people- maybe even more- but it still seemed too small. She wanted to find land soon. 

 

She turned to see Ulaz examining the supplies once more, his brows furrowed in concentration, and Rolo softly snoring on the other end of the boat. What else could they do? It was pitiful. 

 

All it took was a change of the wind and suddenly the waves started to grow bigger. The boat swayed over the turbulent seas and Nyma could feel her heart slowly dropping as clouds began to rush in from what had seemed to be an endless blue sky. Ulaz looked up at the clouds, his eyes narrowing. 

 

“Looks like there’s going to be a storm,” he murmured. Nyma swallowed. 

 

The only thing worse than being stuck in a storm was being stuck in a storm  _ at sea _ and in a damned lifeboat at that. The first fat droplets of rain began to fall from the sky, hitting their faces like little bullets. The sensation woke Rolo and he looked around in bleary confusion, rubbing his eyes. 

 

“Shit. So it wasn’t a dream,” he mumbled. 

 

Thunder rumbled deeply, filling Nyma’s entire being and she could feel the panic clinging to the edge of her mind. She couldn’t freak out. It was just a storm right? It couldn’t possibly be that bad, she was just overreacting. Her heart hammered against her chest as the waves grew more turbulent. 

 

The three of them sat in the boat like that for what seemed like hours, until the ocean appeared black as night. There was no telling what time it was but it had to be pretty late. The storm hadn’t picked up much since it started, but it hadn’t let up either. Nyma felt like she might retch from all of the rocking. 

 

The three of them felt slightly more relaxed than when the storm had first started- they’d just ride it out. It’d been hours and it’d been fine so far, and the storm had to end eventually right. Rolo chattered away about something to them, his voice getting lost in the crash of waves and the roar of wind, but neither Nyma nor Ulaz listened. They both had that feeling- that feeling that this was certainly not the worst of it. 

 

“Rolo, I love you but will you please shut up for a minute,” Nyma grumbled through her teeth and the other stopped talking. He wasn’t looking at Nyma anymore, but at some point in the distance behind her. Nyma tensed, dread filling her entire body as she and Ulaz turned to see what Rolo was staring at. 

 

A wall. A rippling wall loomed in the distance and was lazily moving towards them, building up height the closer it got to them. Due to the tightness that was closing her throat, all Nyma managed to get out was a strained “Fuck”. 

 

They couldn’t do anything before it slammed into their boat full force. 

 

One moment, Nyma was breathing the heavy air, and the next- her body felt as if it was just hit by a train. Her head ached. Her lungs burned. She opened her eyes but all she saw was darkness. She stopped struggling, hoping her body would float upwards- that was her only way of being able to tell. She pulled herself in the direction that felt like up, hands raking away at the water until there was nothing left to rake away at. The air was a cruel slap to the face. 

 

She looked around and saw nothing but waves. No boat. No Rolo. No Ulaz. She let out a cry, frantically searching for the other two, for the boat, for anything. “Rolo? Ulaz?” She screamed, sure her voice wouldn’t be heard over the thunder, wind and waves. She heard a garbled reply. 

 

“Ny- ma?” The voice cracked, he recognized it as Rolo’s. She swam in the direction that she thought she heard Rolo’s voice, and eventually saw a dark shape floating in the water. As she got closer, he realised that it wasn’t just Rolo- Ulaz was there too. She almost thanked God that they were all safe, but as she got closer, her stomach dropped. Rolo was cradling Ulaz in his arms; the other man’s head was bleeding. 

 

“What happened?” Nyma gasped, his voice breaking as he got closer. 

 

“I- I don’t know!” Roloo said, the sentence coming out garbled in between uncontrollable sobs. The waves wanted to pull them apart as Nyma struggled to get closer. “I was on the boat and then it was gone. I thought I saw Ulaz in the water so I grabbed him too to pull him up. U-Ula wasn’t trying to swim he won’t respond to me please help me Nyma!” Rolo cried. 

 

Nyma swam closer, holding her breath and pressing her fingers against Ulaz’s skin, feeling for a pulse. She didn’t feel anything. “Ro-”

 

“No! Don’t say it! I don’t want to hear it it’s not true,” The other gasped, barely breathing in between words. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Nyma choked out, tears beginning to streak down her face. 

 

“Don’t lie to me!” Rolo shrieked, clinging onto Ulaz’s lifeless form like a lifeline. 

 

“I wish I was,” Nyma said, looking down and shaking her head. She looked back at Rolo, whose face had changed from hysteric to grim. He stared down at Ulaz and then planted a kiss on his forehead before gently letting go of his body. It was too final. Nyma watched as the body slowly floated away and then disappeared beneath the crashing waves. 

 

-

 

When she woke up, the first thing Nyma was aware of was the crashing of waves against sand, of the feeling of the coldness in the air. The next thing she noticed was the fact that she could barely breathe. She rolled over and began retching. Her lungs ached and her throat burned. When she was finally able to relax, she sat up and looked around. She was on a seemingly empty beach. A few feet away from her was Rolo. The other was awake, but he said nothing. He just stared out at the sea with a vacant gaze. 

 

-

 

They had trouble finding new clothes. Most of the stores they came across were empty, already having been raided. They hadn’t been dressed for the weather and their wet clothes had frozen, painfully rubbing against their bodies. When they were finally able to find something more appropriate for the weather, it was a huge relief. 

 

Neither of them had eaten for what had to be days. When they came across some food after going so long without, they ate until they were sick. The stale bread left behind a gross taste and they were both tired. They grabbed the rest of the food and shoved it in their coat pockets. A map told them that they were in Massachusetts. Long way from home. 

 

It was evening and the town they were now walking through seemed too nice. It appeared abandoned, but it didn’t look trashed. Were there people in hiding? Was there a gang controlling the place? Nyma didn’t like the feeling she had about it, but she didn’t bother saying anything to Rolo. The last time he had spoken had been… Nyma pushed it to the back of her mind. What good would thinking about it do? 

 

“You two! Stop where you are!” A man’s voice shouted. They both froze, slowly raising their hands. Down the street a little ways stood a man with long white hair. He held a gun aimed towards them, though at who, Nyma couldn’t say. 

 

“Please,” Nyma said, “Please help us sir!” Her legs gave out and she sat in a crumpled mess on the cold pavement, his body beginning to shake with sobs. Rolo regarded the stranger with a glare, kneeling down beside Nyma and placing a hand on her back as an attempt at comfort.  

 

Lotor lowered his gun, staring at the two strangers in confusion. Any distrust he had initially had towards them was washed away in an instant. He had no idea who they were or where they came from, but he knew a tragic backstory when he saw one. Against his better judgement, he walked towards the two men, offering shelter. Allura would hate him, but unfortunately for the stuck up woman, other people’s lives were far more important than her comfort. 

 

-

 

Allura jumped as the door swung open to reveal a soaked Lotor, accompanied by two strangers. She stood up, holding his hands up defensively, “Oh n-”

 

“Can it, Princess,” the light haired man snapped, ushering the two into the kitchen and turning on the light. Lotor slowly followed them into the room, watching as Allura poured them each a glass of water and ordering them not to drink it too fast. The two strangers stared at their glasses blankly, and then the taller of the two began to cry. Allura looked at Lotor in confusion. 

 

“Don’t know what happened to them, but they looked like they needed you. Might be best to give them some space. I’ll take care of them.” 

 

Allura slowly backed out of the room. As much as she hated Lotor, he trusted him on this one. 

 

-

 

Keith wasn’t at all surprised when he heard that there were more newcomers. Allura’s house seemed to be a haven for those in need. Despite the late hour, curiosity brought him wandering down the hall to the kitchen, where they supposedly were. Lotor nodded at him when he entered, and when he saw who exactly the newcomers were, his stomach lurched. How did  _ they _ manage to get here.  _ What were the odds? _

 

Nyma and Rolo stared back at Keith in equal surprise. All the raven haired boy could manage in greeting was a squeaky “Hello”.

 

Neither of them responded to Keith, instead just returning to what they had apparently been doing for the good part of an hour: staring into their full glasses of water. 

 

Keith looked up at Lotor, questioning in his gaze, but all the other did was shrug and give a noncommittal grunt. Keith left the room without so much as glancing back at the other two. 

 

-

 

Lance was woken from a dead sleep by a soft hand gripping his arm. He mumbled, swinging around blindly. 

 

“You won’t believe who’s here” an equally soft voice said from his side and his eyes focused on Keith in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments! /Constructive/ criticism is always appreciated!!

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave your thoughts below! /Constructive/ criticism is always appreciated!


End file.
